Paradise
by MiracleIsDead
Summary: A collection of short stories about the life of a Wurmple. A WIP.
1. Prologue

"What? I can't believe you ate them all so quickly!"

"Sowee… I was hungry..."

He couldn't believe it despite the very spectacle being apparent before his eyes. After all the trouble he had gone through gathering all those Pecha leaves for a family lunch, she had them all gobbled up within seconds while he went out to get more. An exaggeration really, but he did recall explicitly telling her to stand guard on the pile of Pecha leaves in their little home that he had been adding to all morning. It wasn't as easy as one would think, for someone as small as him had to scour every corner of the massive forest floor to find such fresh morsels with those little feet of his while also dodging countless scores of Tailows that circled above for easy prey.

They were supposed to have a feast, a delicious meal cum family bonding session. But now, it was all gone, lost to a moment of inattention to an ill-disciplined sister as he went off in search of more. Having found nothing the second time round, he had returned, hoping to make do, only to be greeted by something far worse. At times, he couldn't help but wonder that perhaps she had it too easy. He was after all the one doing all the dangerous things so that they would survive. Perhaps he had to scold her to knock some sense into her, like what that Ziggzagoon did to that lazy friend of his. It was going to be a first (and she would probably have her feelings hurt), but he had to do something. At the very least, he could make her slightly more responsible for their collective survival. For instance, she could start by not eating all their food stockpiles on a whim.

"You... wait, are you even listening?"

However, she had left him long by then, her red carapace curled up in slumber. The satisfaction of a hearty meal had rendered her unconsciousness, as was customary. A meal meant for him too.

"Sigh..."

She was always like that. Eating and sleeping, never thinking, just being, being whatever. Still, he had little choice. She was the only family he had, and he cherished and loved her, as any older sibling would. It wasn't completely her fault either, for he knew he had been too overprotective since day one. Keeping someone pampered and out of harm's way constantly was sure to create dependency, a fact he now knew all too well.

Eventually, he knew that he would have to teach her the ways of survival. But for the time being, he was still content in being the sole provider, as infuriating as it could be at times.

And now, he had more pressing matters. An entire morning's worth of gathering had left him with an empty belly with nothing to show for apart from an unconscious sister. Crawling reluctantly out of the little hole they called their home, he began his search anew. The midday sun was now upon his body like a radiant supernova, and that motivated him to wriggle his prolegs even faster in prospect of a Pecha leaf to munch on in the cool shade.

He was sure that most of the good ones had been taken by him or by others of his kind. Such was to be normally expected, for his kind foraged for nourishment before midday, where the morning dew made the leaves fresh and the fresh ones even crispier. Much to his surprise however, a lone Pecha leaf sat precariously upon a fairly low hanging branch on a westward tree, whose bark stood just within wriggling distance. Its emerald-green splendour shone in the light of the midday sun, promising juiciness and crunchiness with each bite. The matter wasn't up for debate. This one, this was definitely the one to go for.

Quickening his pace, he wriggled even faster. Such was the strength of his motivation that vertical distance meant nothing, and before he knew it, he was on the same level of elevation as that delicious leaf, a mere branch all that stood between him and his prize.

It was then that he felt his belly tighten as though it had been tied into an infinite configuration of knots. He felt his prolegs tremble as the wind tickled them, as if taunting his fear in an effort to encourage his descent onto the unforgiving earth below. Never had he ever been this high up in his entire life.

Until now.

"Uh oh..."

A part of him wanted to flee to safety, hunger be damned. But even that was impossible now, for it meant somehow getting down the tree. Another part of him cursed himself, berating how he had let hunger overwhelm reason. However, yet another part of him knew that it was far too late for regrets. Staring at the Pecha leaf with a determination harder than any steel-type, it was now a matter of do or die.

"Easy does it..."

He nudged himself onto the branch; planting each of his numerous prolegs upon its bark in an effort to ingrain himself upon its rough surface should he fall. Wriggling slowly with calculated precision each step of the way, he brought himself closer and closer towards the leaf. Each wriggle forward made the leaf seem larger and even more tantalising, and eventually, he felt its crunchy and juicy texture churn delightfully between his mandibles. At long last, he thought to himself as a wave of triumph surged through every inch of his red body. Truly, this was what it meant to feel alive.

It was not long after he took his first bite that he saw a flash of something red and white hit him. The blunt impact of it didn't hurt nor knock him off his precarious position, but before he could react in any way the mysterious sphere had opened up and sucked him into its dark confines. Fearing the worst, he struggled against the all-consuming darkness, tackling wildly with all as might as fear overtook his senses. To no avail it was unfortunately, for he began to feel some kind of stasis overtake every sinew of his body. Suddenly, everything became frozen and static, as he was paralysed in time. Was this the end as he knew it? It seemed far too soon, and if anything, he expected it to be between the hungering jaws of one of those accursed bird Pokemon, not a timeless vacuum.

And even as everything turned to black around him, he felt his rapidly freezing thoughts shift back to her. Did she know of his predicament? Looking back, he knew that he should have taken the time to teach her some basic survival skills. Now, she was all alone in the wild, undoubtedly waiting for him to return for her next meal, something that probably wouldn't be coming any time soon. Sooner or later, some wretched Tailow, or heavens forbid, a Swellow, was going to get her. He had heard the stories from his fellow Wurmples. Those dark tales still kept him up at night sometimes, watching the moonlit skies with dread.

He braced himself for an eternity of darkness. And yet, that eternity seemed to be but a brief whisper of a second, for before he could fully make sense of his predicament, he found himself out upon the familiar grass of his forest home. Everything seemed normal, as if the experience mere seconds ago was but a break in the flow of time. For a brief moment he stood relieved, pleased that he was free from the all-consuming darkness. However, as he scanned his surroundings, he caught sight of two tall figures that were not there before his near-death experience. Blocking out the sun with their shadows, they both had long, shoulder-length hair, one brown and the other black. With similar facial features, they seemed to be siblings, much like he and his sister. And much to his amusement, their hides were covered in bizarre coloured wrappings that covered various parts of their feet, legs and body.

Humans? Up to this very moment, they had only existed to him as the stuff of legend told by his neighbours and friends, that which was worse than even the most savage of Swellows, taking both kith and kin without abandon. And they had somehow used that mysterious sphere to incapacitate him. At this point, hunger seemed relatively minor a concern.

He felt his prolegs gain a life of their own as he wriggled away as fast as he could. Humans were in fact real, and now, he had to warn everyone before it was too late! However, before he could make any sort of decent distance from his captors, he felt himself being lifted from the ground by a force greater than himself. Turning around in horror, he was now within the clutches of the brown-haired human. Her facial features were contorted into some sort of half-moon shape, and she made a loud squealing sound as she extended her arms towards the black-haired human, bringing him towards her. He half-expected the latter to respond in an equally shrill cry (as was expected of creatures of the same species), but much to his surprise, she did not. The latter's was instead gentle and modest, her blue eyes focused upon what lay within her cradled arms rather than the hubris of the one who held him. And much to his shock, those very arms held his sister, still asleep even in the face of danger. He knew her to be a heavy sleeper, but this was far too extreme for any form of reasonable expectation.

Then again, perhaps this was for the best. She was no doubt going to be terrified were she awake in this situation. Hysterical. He shuddered at the mere thought of the possibility. But before any more considerations and thoughts could be had, he felt his consciousness freeze up once more, his bodily essence absorbed by that mysterious sphere of white and red. This time however, he felt some measure of comfort, for he now knew the sensation to only be temporary. Not only that, his sister was now by his side, and with that in mind, he felt himself stronger than ever before, ready for any trials that lay ahead.


	2. Precious

Five days had passed since that fateful encounter. He had seen the days go by in a literal sense, as she crossed out each numbered box upon a small sheet that hung upon the walls of his new home. Each sunrise led to yet another red-coloured cross upon another box to the right of the box crossed before. Five boxes had been crossed so far, and it seemed apt to conclude some form of correlation with the two events.

It didn't matter that much though, for truth be told, he had not found himself suffering in the slightest, contrary to his fears. In fact, life couldn't get any better. He was now the proud owner of a great new treasure. It was a pink coloured piece of enamelware with a crater shaped hole in the middle with the letters "P-r-e-c-i-o-u-s" scrawled upon its side like a last minute addition upon an otherwise perfect piece of symmetry. "Puh-reh-cious", his new owner had pronounced it, whenever she would call him over fill the bowl with strange looking (but admittedly delicious) brown foods, or whenever she would release him from that strange red and white sphere to introduce him to her friends, smiling as though he was her best friend.

Still, he wasn't too familiar with the alphabets of the Unown Script, his only experience with them from a few lessons held in the forest by a big, orange skinned and white bellied Pokemon that possessed a long stringy tail that ended with a yellow lightning bolt that visited on occasion. Calling herself a "Raichu", she had brought with her a board and chalk, and with those strange tools she had shown them the wonders of the Unown Script, the alphabets of which brought substance and physical form to the sounds he and his fellows made each day. His sister loved those talks and lessons, and by that extension that love rubbed off on him as well, as they took the time to learn to sing the "Song of the Unowns". He didn't have the most musically attuned mandibles nor did she, but they had fun, and perhaps that was the joy of learning, just like how he made it a point to discover something new each daybreak when he scrounged the forest floor for leaves to eat. It was something that gave meaning to life, a reason other than mere sustenance to exist for one day more. Knowledge didn't nourish physically, but it did feel good on a level beyond physical needs.

Intrigued he was about the humans, especially so after meeting one who purportedly lived among them. The Raichu had made no qualms of sharing stories of her home, juxtaposition against the tales of dread held amongst the more senior denizens of the forest. According to her, the humans had bent those alphabets to their will, making it into their way of speaking and correspondence. Through that, she further explained, they went on to greater ambitions, developing the means to build their forests of concrete and steel that were her home, bending the world itself to their will. Not that it was bad thing, she had said reassuringly to him then as though sensing through his quivering carapace his fear of a human-dominated world. They, as Pokémon, had built the world alongside mankind, and held a place as partners and friends of the humans, loved and cherished as equals.

Now, if only he had taken the time to ask that Raichu more about life in the concrete forests, considering that was to be his existence for the foreseeable future. Alas, he was but a simple Wurmple with simpler desires, and thinking for the unexpected future was never part of his priorities. Still, he held out the hope that he would meet that Raichu again. Say hello and all that good stuff. Perhaps then she could tell him more, especially more about her favourite word, "Rocket".

Not that he resented this life in the slightest. Truthfully, no longer having to scrounge for food and worry about the terrors from above was a luxury unlike any other he had ever known. Plus, his new owner, who called herself "Ah-yah-seh" (which he learned later to be Ayase in the Unown Script from a paper she had been writing on), further substantiated based on how she had introduced herself in between an overly enthusiastic hug that radiated both love while simultaneously bringing suffocation, had his every need catered to. From affairs as simple as sustenance to tender cuddles in her arms as well as a nice, comfortable spot on her shoulder as she traversed the forests of steel and concrete, it seemed life had become a paradise. On his part, he did his best not to shed any dust on her, or her things. Especially not the large white slab framed in wood that she lay upon every night. She seemed to really enjoy sleeping on that thing. He understood why, for its softness was indeed unlike any other

That said, his new home was rather small, as compared to the forest floor he once traversed freely at his own peril. Even so, it was still really nice despite the size. He would spend minutes marvelling at massive shelf of wood that held all manner of Ayase's things, the lower row home to books of all unfathomable content while the upper rows held all manner of strange curios and fancy baubles. That or he found wonder in spending the hours beside Ayase, admiring her quietly as she sat by her desk reading and writing all sorts of unknown words based on the Unown Script, on either pieces of paper or forming those words on that strange, foldable machine of metal through a rapid succession of fingers tapping on its buttons that made alphabets turn into words upon its glowing display. Occasionally she would pull something out from the lower shelf, and read it intently. In all those occasions, he tried his best to understand, but the words thrown about were too cryptic and rapid for his mind.

Still, he enjoyed being by her side, as did she, for she would nuzzle his mandibles lovingly with her soft, slender fingers in between bouts of studious work. Supposedly humans were fond of random acts of affection. It was all so perfect that he found his only concern to be that of a case of mistaken identity, for Ayase seemed to think him a girl. That seemed the only plausible explanation for all the pink stuff she had gotten for him. Not that he didn't appreciate the thought and value of his new things, but he knew that he'd very much prefer them to be of some other colour. Red maybe, much like his spiny carapace. There ought to be some way to let her know, he reckoned.

He wondered if all humans were like Ayase. Loud and loving. Perhaps there were more like her, and others unlike her. One thing was for sure from the others of her kind he had seen though- they didn't appear to possess a more or less uniform appearance like how each Lotad by the lake looked more or less the same. Perhaps there were many variations of human, just like that bug Pokémon the Raichu had told him of that had up to twenty variations of wing patterns amongst its kind. Either way, it perplexed him so.

At times, in between watching Ayase go about her day, his thoughts would wander back to his sister. Much to his dismay, his presumption that the black-haired human (whose name was Tasha, according to none other than his sister) were siblings was just that. Well, they were at least neighbours, for the latter lived in another concrete abode of her own, right beside Ayase's. Ironically though, his sister (now named "Beauty", a name she seemed to be extremely proud of) took to her new circumstances surprisingly well. It all seemed to her like a never-ending all-you-can-eat buffet, with joy-rides for days like a never-ending funfair. Even with his concerns to her state of mind, watching her happiness did bring him joy, and with that fear sated, he found himself cherishing his new life. Perhaps there was some merit to her life's philosophy after all.

Just being, being yourself. He would take upon himself his new identity, and new life. Precious. Perhaps someday he would meet that Raichu again, and perhaps someday his life would change once more. It seemed so exciting, an adventure maybe, like some of the illustrations on Ayase's books that depicted humans and Pokémon venturing through the land, meeting new friends and visiting never before seen places.

But for now, all was well. As the fading rays of the setting sun shine through the window, he caught sight of Ayase entering the room, a long, white wrap covering her body, a thing she liked to do in that lavender-scented room where she made it rain on herself on a daily basis. Perhaps she was like the mythical Kyogre, creator of the primordial seas as told by the ancient legends. Mysterious, undoubtedly, but that power seemed limited to that room. Perhaps that room held some kind of mysterious power.

Not that it mattered. For now, he watched with eager anticipation as Ayase reached for a bag stored in a place far beyond his reach, filling that pink enamelware with that brown goodness he had come to love. There would always be time to contemplate and speculate. Not now though, for it was time for dinner.


	3. School - Part 1

_Author's note: This will be a two-part chapter as its pretty long. Do let me know what you think!_

For Precious, his only (and admittedly shallow) impression of school was upon the forest floor, wriggling himself a comfortable position as the midday sun was rising to listen to a Raichu talk about the Unown Script while using a portable chalkboard of sorts to illustrate her sayings. Simple it was, but interesting nonetheless.

It thus came as a big surprise that Ayase's school was anything but simple. Great was the gravity of the shock delivered when Ayase let him out of his red and white sphere to sit on her shoulder as she made her way to school. On the way out she had met with Tasha, who had Beauty cradled on her arms like a sleeping baby. Her closed eyes betrayed her use of her human companion as an impromptu "nap branch", a term she had coined back in the forest. Not that she seemed to mind, he noted, for Tasha and Ayase were walking and chatting away as though they were having the time of their lives.

Interestingly enough, they were both outfitted in similar wrappings of white and blue, wrapped with a black coat of sorts that felt both fuzzy and soft. This uniform sense of apparel was not just limited to them; for as they got closer to their destination, greater numbers of similarly dressed humans could be seen bearing the same patterns. Perhaps humans did have some kind of uniform appearance if they belonged to a collective. And yet, they seemed to possess multiple outfits for a myriad of reasons despite being part of said collective. Curious indeed.

But what was more intriguing and awe inspiring to Precious was in fact the monumental sight he had come to behold at the end of their trek. While he was undoubtedly impressed by the scale and grandeur of Ayase's communal housing structure and the various buildings that stood upon the concrete-lined ground, the architecture that now stood tall before him was beyond any level of mortal comprehension. If anything, it lent full credence to the Raichu's claims that the humans had shaped the world to their will. Even a mere glance sent shivers of awe through every proleg of his red body.

A massive compound of concrete was dedicated to its existence alone, a large sign on the top of the building identifying the building as "POKEMON TECH" which seemingly amplified the size of the building it was engraved upon, dwarfing his homes, both old and current, by a gargantuan level. Rows of perfectly arranged glass panels lined walls of white marble, making the school appear as though made entirely out of crystal. Looking upon its splendour with awe worthy of a god, he couldn't help but feel as if it was the grand design of someone's master plan.

And all that that was to say nothing of the other wonders that awaited his star-stricken eyes. From his favourite spot on Ayase's shoulder, he caught sight of a massive field of neatly cropped grass to the right of him, filled with other humans engaging in all manner of activity alongside numerous species of Pokémon unmet and unknown. Some were playing, and others fighting at the behest of their human companions, which excited him with a surge of adrenaline unfelt of. He wanted very much for Ayase to go there, that he may join in on whatever activity those other Pokémon were engaging in. Alas, they seemed determined on their course, and the field was soon but a fading sight as he found himself closer and closer to the sight of glass-panelled doors that seemed to open and close automatically in the presence of living beings.

Inside, he found himself greeted by sights, sounds and smells from all directions. He felt the air around him frigidly tickle his prolegs as various humans of all shape, size and gender (but in similar garb) were conversing with one another amidst symmetrical rows of metal boxes that seemingly stored their possessions. Even Ayase and Tasha were engaging in said activity, conversing with other humans in a vocal pitch that indicated happiness and excitement borne from a period of prolonged absence. He stared widely as Ayase opened her own metal box, retrieving all manner of curios unknown to him. If anything, humans had so many tools at their disposal, it gave him a headache.

Was this some sort of reunion? Perhaps that was why Ayase had crossed out those boxes, each red mark demarcating a day closer to today. She seemed to be no stranger to this place, judging from her mannerisms. He on the other hand felt a sense of nausea overwhelm him, for cryptic sounds and words seemed to be thrown all over the place, and Ayase's act of constant dashing and stopping to greet her fellows was beginning to throw his senses into a whirl. It eventually came as a welcome relief when their bout came to end within a curious contraption that elevated them upwards. With a "ding" sound the doors had opened once more, revealing a corridor leading to various rooms. He couldn't help but marvel at the wonders of human technology. If only he had access to a contraption like that while on that tree back in the forest.

Soon enough, his travelling party made it to the entrance of a room marked "3-1". Glass doored just like the main entrance, it appeared to him a room furnished with row after row of tables and chairs, much like Ayase's back home but in a more standardised fashion. He found himself picturing some manner of order being imposed here, judging from the uniform appearance of the rooms and neatly arranged furniture. And much to his relief, while there were still people around, they were now present in a sparser manner. Some were seated at their designated places, reading something probably related in some way to whatever activity was to be conducted, while others were happily chatting away, with the largest gathering of humans being three males around another Tasha's table, their banter seemingly focused on her. Ayase on the other hand seemed preoccupied in transcribing words and numbers onto a piece of paper from a paper borrowed from Tasha, her own handwriting and facial expression much more erratic and urgent than normal.

This state of affairs would not last, for soon enough, Precious heard the sound of a heel clacking upon the ceramic tiling of his surroundings. Echoing warnings of impending doom, he couldn't help but shudder within his red carapace as he saw the humans scurry back to their designated places in the room a manner similar to how his kind would scatter to parts unknown in the face of particularly large bird Pokémon. Facing this, he couldn't help but wonder- just what could possibly inspire such fear in the hearts of the humans, whose kind had shaped the world to their will?

As if wordlessly answering his question, he saw an even taller figure enter the room. With short yellow hair and a wrinkled complexion that seemed to hold within them years of experience and expended youth, he found himself wishing for yet another second to observe her, for much to a strange mix of unexpectedly felt relief and unsatisfied curiosity, he found his bodily essence once more absorbed into Ayase's sphere. Not that he minded it too much, for by now, he had grown accustomed to its confines. It now felt natural, even relaxing, to sleep within its void, and he could even feel some semblance of his consciousness of his outer surroundings. Acclimatisation could be such a wonderful thing. He was sure Beauty felt the same way too, judging from how she loved her new life.

He felt the hours go by like leaves in the wind as he tried to make sense of Ayase's lessons from within her sphere. It seemed like her kind prided much of their learning on reading, writing as well as speaking. He wanted to go out on a limb to liken it to the Raichu's makeshift school, but he found the lessons here more serious, of much greater urgency than anything back there. Unlike something for fun on the side, it felt to him like the humans' futures depended on their proficiency on these lessons. But then again, they may have been better at separating the nuances of work and play. Undoubtedly, discipline was a key trait in dominating the world as they had.

Most of Ayase's classes didn't seem to involve him, although he did take note of numerous familiar terms such as "Pecha" being thrown about, much to his delight. Apparently, it had the capability of neutralising inflicted poisons. Perhaps, all those hours of reading had made him smarter. While intelligence was something he could never possibly associate with himself, he did feel his vocabulary expand from his time spent with Ayase.

Suddenly, he felt himself on the move again. Ayase was going somewhere, amidst the chatter of her and her peers. However, before he could make sense of the shift in his surroundings, he found himself upon the floor of what seemed to be a battleground of sorts. The human supervising Ayase's lesson had changed too, to one well-built male dressed from head to toe in a red suit he had seen on others of his kind when they exercised. Behind him stood his human friend, her eyes bright with excitement, and at the side stood the rest of her class. Strange. Was this some kind of sporting event?

Unfortunately, such concerns became the least of his worries, for he found himself staring down a massive boulder with arms and legs, the Pokémon belonging to Ayase's opponent, a male human, whose body barely fit his clothes, straining its fabrics with a soft paunch that betrayed an ill-disciplined diet, much unlike his Pokémon. He recognized him to be one of the males at Tasha's table before class started. Appropriately enough, he seemed intent to impress someone with his marital prowess.

His Pokémon seemed to possess similar sentiments, although Precious was sure that it wasn't after the heart of a female Wurmple. With a brutish grin, it brought its two pairs of rough-looking arms together, clenching them like some kind of precursor of what it was about to do. Nothing good, that was for sure. He found himself trying to strike an aggressive pose, but it seemed the exact opposite of that, for the walking boulder began to chortle, its voice deep and rough like rocks smashing against a concrete wall.

A shout and a loud signal could be heard, a signal that the battle had begun. Bracing his nerves, he found himself strangely in sync with Ayase's words, something that was yet to happen till now. Was this why people and Pokémon fought alongside each other, for the purpose of better understanding each other, and by that extension, themselves?

He heard Ayase's opponent shout something, his fist clenching as if to physically punctuate the incoming action. Not that such exposition was ever required for Precious, for he soon found the boulder Pokémon charging towards him, intent on crashing into him with that craggy body of his. Fearing the worst, he threw his body to the side, avoiding the incoming attack as his body rolled on the hard earth.

He heard Ayase shout "String Shot!" He didn't know what it meant, but he found himself instinctively obeying, his belly churning rapidly as he fired a thread of white, sticky goo, the same stuff he used to build their makeshift shelter in the forest, at his opponent, covering its rocky frame from head to toe in it. So that was the name of the stuff he had worked with all his life! He didn't know then, but in the heat of battle, he had learned something new.

He caught sight of Ayase's opponent ordering his Pokémon to attack again. This time however, its charge was much slower, the silken threads stuck to its body impeding its momentum. Confidently this time, he darted to the side, causing the incoming boulder to flail clumsily towards the wall, crashing upon its concrete frame with a thud amidst the sound of laughter and cheering from the side.

It was then that he heard the word "Tackle!" from Ayase, the sharp tone of her command spurring him to action. No doubt, it was the perfect opportunity to counter-attack, now that the brutish rock Pokémon had crashed in a rather unceremonious manner. Mustering all of his strength, he charged towards it in a similar fashion, intent on ramming himself into his opponent.

 _*Bam!*_

Perhaps it was a mistake to charge headfirst into a rock, even if it was another Pokemon. Probably something about Pokémon type matchups, as he had gleaned from listening in during Ayase's first lesson. Either way, it was a definite mistake, for he found himself bouncing backwards from his target in a rather impotent manner as he made contact. The floor was not to be his destination however, for his opponent had regained its momentum in lieu of his own failed attack. With one arm, it grabbed him, tossing him onto the ground. Responding to a command by Ayase's opponent, the fist of another of its arms glowed white, and with a brutal smirk, it brought the entirety of its flashing brutality towards Precious, the resulting impact sending him sprawling across the battlefield.

Was this what it meant to die? He felt his eyes go groggy while every sinew within him ached with pain. Amidst the shrieks of despair and cries of triumph, he felt his consciousness fade to black, as he felt his bodily essence fade into the void.

It seemed so soon, to waste away from this world in such a manner. To Precious, a life unlived was worse than a life of suffering. Well, at least he had not the misfortune of the latter, but he had a whole life ahead of him. A life he envisioned in his dreams, a meaningful life that meant something. Perhaps it would have all amounted to nothing at the end, but he believed that even nothingness possessed some semblance of meaning, like how even the darkest night would hold at least a bare glimpse of the stars, that those who beheld it would see daybreak once more.

It felt scary, almost unfair, that it would all end now. Alas, he was powerless in the face of it all. Perhaps there were indeed some things beyond one's control that determined who lived and who died.

 _(To be continued in Part 2...)_


End file.
